


Just Go With It

by loonyloopyluna



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyloopyluna/pseuds/loonyloopyluna
Summary: Marinette got a job working for her idol--and Adrien's there, too, of course. That's thedream, right?Gabriel... assumes too much, maybe.





	Just Go With It

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had worked her ass off at school and at internships and the graveyard shift at a fast food place, but it was all worth it, because today she was starting a new job, and it was one that she hoped would take her all the way to her dreams. Today was her first day as Gabriel Agreste’s personal assistant.

Temporarily, of course. No one could ever replace Ms. Sancoeur, but she’d just adopted a child, and was taking maternity leave. In her stead, Adrien had suggested his friend, who was presented with an opportunity he couldn’t let her miss out on. Adrien was nothing if not supportive of his friends’ dreams. Gabriel had met her before, and she’d left the impression of a strong-willed, mild-mannered young woman, with a firm voice, impeccable organization, and a penchant for running late. He’d already received five emails from her when Adrien’s recommendation sealed the deal.

Thanks to Tikki, Marinette managed to show up at the Agreste house five minutes before she was due. Nathalie had given her a brief orientation the day before, and she was confident to face any obstacle she might encounter. Her skirt was pressed, shoes shined, scarf knotted neatly, hair twirled tightly away. She tripped on her way up the stairs to the front door, but thankfully, no one but the security cameras caught it, and it was her job to monitor that once she got inside.

She slipped through the main doors and through to a little office off of the foyer. It looked different than she remembered, from the first time she’d been there, years ago. Since Adrien’s fifteenth birthday party, no doubt much of the furniture in the house had been cycled out to keep with current fashions, but the only thing that had stayed current in this office was the computer monitor on the desk. Wires snaked from the display to the baseboards where, she knew, they connected to the systems in the house: heating, security, electricity.

A single cord ran to a small roll-top desk that sat underneath the window, and she opened it and turned the computer on. The monitor flickered to life, as did a tablet mounted on the wall by the door. Marinette leaned back in her swivel chair as she waited for the computer to boot up. The light fixture was impressive for such a small room, but then, everything in Mr. Agreste’s house was fancy and expensive and just screamed  _ fashion _ . It was the perfect mix of antique and high-tech. Marinette was really going to like it there.

She’d declined to put her purse in the closet, and had set it underneath her desk, where it was hidden from view by the front panel. Tikki flew out and sat on top of the computer monitor.

“Big day, Marinette,” she chirped. “When are you going to see Mr. Agreste?”

“In a few minutes,” Marinette said. She typed the password into the computer and waited as the system continued to load. “I want to make sure everything is up and running when I check in for the morning.”

She'd left the office door open, and while Tikki wasn't in plain sight, she was still more visible than may have been wise. They both heard footsteps echoing through the foyer, and by the time Marinette had ensured the kwami was hidden and looked back up to see who was coming, Adrien had fully descended the stairs and was waving hesitantly toward her. She smiled sheepishly and waved back. The close call and close encounter had her heart pounding, and when the tablet on the wall buzzed, she jumped in her seat.

It buzzed again impatiently, and she scurried over to accept the call. Gabriel’s face blossomed into view. He graced her with a rare smile. 

“Mr. Agreste!” she stammered. “Good morning, sir.”

“Yes, it is morning, isn't it? Who can say if it's a good one,” he remarked dryly. “And two minutes past the hour, if I'm not mistaken. I hope it's not too much trouble to inquire as to when I may have an assistant?

“Right. Yes,” she said. “Sorry. I was just making sure that everything was operational. I'll be over momentarily, sir.”

As she spoke, her fingers flew over the tablet, bringing up the day's schedule and to-do list.

“I believe Nathalie took Adrien’s tablet last night and forgot it somewhere; you'll need to find it and return it to him so he has his schedule for the day,” Gabriel continued, unfazed. “Quickly, please, for we have much to do.”

“Yes, sir, I'm aware,” Marinette replied, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. “The deadline for the final fall line is in six days, and there's still a lot you haven't done.”

Mr. Agreste raised an eyebrow at her. “I'm on my way,” she said, and then hung up. She snatched the tablet off the wall with one hand and pressed the other against her mouth to keep it from shaking. “It's been five minutes and I'm already fired,” she whispered.

Tikki, meanwhile, had been searching for Adrien's tablet and found it in a drawer under a manilla folder. “It's not that bad,” she reassured Marinette. “You've got spunk. That's a good thing!”

Marinette scooped up the other tablet and patted Tikki on the head. “I appreciate it, Tikki, but I'm pretty sure I just blew it.” She walked out, leaving Tikki to snuggle into a niche in the drawer. As she strode across the foyer, she unlocked Adrien's tablet, smiling for a moment at his background; he and Nino were hanging out in his room, locked in a comic, over exaggerated video game battle for the camera. Their elbows were cocked to the sides, faces screwed in concentration. Nino was leaning his whole body to the left, and Adrien's tongue poked out between his lips.

She brought up his schedule on her tablet, then synced it over to his. She looked up just as she entered the dining room, where he was seated at the end of a very long table with a steaming mug of coffee and a bowl of fruit. One of his t-shirt sleeves was flipped inside-out, his pants rode a few inches above his ankles, and there was a stain along his collar that might have been blood, or jam, or coffee at one point, but had faded into a vague brown blotch over time. Adrien smiled at her and self-consciously smoothed his hair down.

Marinette tried to keep her composure as she took in his bedhead and pajamas. Once upon a time, she would have fainted to see Adrien up-close and fresh out of bed, and even now that her crazy infatuation was left years in the past, she still found it kind of cute. He’d done a terrible job of removing his makeup the night before and his eyes were rimmed with smudged eyeliner. 

She cleared her throat and held out the tablet to him. “This is yours, I believe,” she said.

He rubbed the heel of his hand along his forehead and gave her a tired grin. “Oh, yeah. Thanks. Good morning to you, too.”

“O-of course. Good morning.” She smiled faintly at him. They were friends, of course, but she was here on professional business, right? There was no mixing of work and pleasure.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he continued, still grinning.

She gave him a puzzled look. “I… I’m working for your father now. Or, at least until Nathalie gets back. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Oh, I know.” He arched an eyebrow, but if he was trying to share in a joke with her, she was missing the punchline.

“Anyway,” she said after a moment. “I should go. I’m kind of… keeping your dad waiting. To fire me, most likely.”

He grabbed her elbow. “Hey. I’m sure you’re doing fine. My dad’s an ass sometimes, but I guarantee you can’t have done anything already to make him angry.”

“Right,” she said slowly. “In any case, I still need to go. I’ll see you later, I suppose.”

“See you later,” he said cheerily, turning back to his breakfast.

Marinette walked briskly back into the foyer and across to Gabriel’s office. She paused for a moment in front of the door, wondering whether she should knock or just let herself in, before deciding on both; she rapped her knuckles on one door while turning the other handle. Mr. Agreste looked up as she entered the room, and she kept a straight face as she strode coolly to him, all professionalism and punctuality, turning her tablet, her lifeline, back on and using it as an excuse to avoid his icy stare.

Before she could say anything, however, he asked, “What do you think of this?”

She looked up. “Sorry?”

He gestured to his side, where a row of mannequins were assembled; all were bare except one, which wore a jacket. Before Marinette could stop herself, her lip curled as she took it in. She caught his eye, and saw there was no going back, so she took a deep breath.

“It’s just… what’s special about it?” Marinette frowned. “Denim jackets are  _ everywhere _ . This one looks like it could be from any label, even those cheap mall stores. I don’t see anything that makes it stand out. It doesn’t seem like it would sell.”

Gabriel tilted his head. “An excellent assessment,” he allowed.

Marinette stood up a little straighter.

“However,” he continued, “your initial impression is insufficient. You’ve barely given it a first look, much less a second. Come at look at it from the back.”

She walked around to the other side, and found that butterflies were embroidered on the jacket’s back, in shimmering purple and black and silver. And now that she was closer, she could see the faint flowers embossed on the jacket’s lapels and cuffs.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “That’s beautiful!”

“So, after consideration, what do you think?” he asked.

“Well…” Gabriel’s face was inscrutable, to her frustration. “To be honest, sir, it still doesn’t seem like much. I’ve always admired the hidden details in your designs, but there needs to be something to catch your eye, or no one will be interested in looking further.”

“And what would you suggest?” he pressed.

“A zipper?” Marinette winced internally.

He rubbed his chin. “A zipper,” he repeated. “On a denim jacket? Interesting… Call Alain and tell him I want to see that, by noon at the latest. And in the meantime, hold off on any of the jackets. You’ll need to check the back room and see what items we have already, but if they haven’t already finished with the corduroys, tell them to get them here by the end of the day. Now, I’ll need you to run me through this morning’s schedule…”

* * *

By her fourth day on the job, Marinette had fallen into the rhythm of things. It helped that, as the deadline neared, her job became more and more passive; making sure that boxes were checked and things were on schedule. Lately, everything was down to the photographers and their models, and there wasn’t much for her to do.

This season would mark the modelling debut of one Chloé Bourgeois, and Marinette retreated to her office the moment she heard those familiar, shrill tones echo through the mansion. She would be working from her desk today.

Through the open door, Marinette could see the bustle of people passing through the foyer, but she managed to remain uninterrupted for a few hours. That streak was broken just before 11:30.

The office door slammed shut, and Marinette swiveled in her chair to see what had happened. Adrien was pressed against it, palms flattened and head craned sharply to the right; his head tilted, as though he was listening for something, but after a few seconds, he relaxed, and turned towards Marinette, shooting her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. My father,” was all he offered.

She leaned forward. “What happened?”

“Some new guy managed to confuse suede and velvet.” Adrien grimaced as the sound of shouting faintly reached their ears. “And when my dad noticed…”

“He started giving him an earful,” Marinette finished. She smirked. “How does that even happen?”

“Hey, now,” he laughed. “Don’t get too cocky. Isn’t it your job to catch that kind of stuff? He’ll be coming after you, next.” 

He froze, smile still in place but dread slowly dawning in his eyes, as he realized what that meant. The shouting upstairs faded away.

“Oh, shit. He’s coming after you, next,” Adrien repeated.

“So much for getting away,” Marinette said. She tried to bring back the banter, but her palms were sweating. The click of Gabriel’s heels against the tile sounded sharply in their ears.

“Hide me!” Adrien hissed, diving underneath the desk she was still sitting at. Marinette barely had time to react before Gabriel was upon them.

He rapped on the door. “Marinette?” he said sharply.

She dried her palms on her skirt and straightened in her seat. “Come in.”

Gabriel pushed the door open and strode into the room. “Marinette,” he said. “Would you care to explain to me how, in all of your checks and double-checks, an error might have slipped in? And why yesterday evening, when I asked if everything was ready for today, you told me everything was, quote,  _ perfect _ ?”

“I… don’t know, sir.” She wanted to look away, but she held eye contact with him. Maybe she could fool him into thinking she was more confident than she felt. “It won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know,” he sniffed. “You know, negligence and incompetence are qualities I can’t stand, especially in my employees. And all of you are complicit in this; not one person noticed anything amiss. Not one of you looked at the skirt closely enough to realize it was the wrong material.  _ Suede? _ ” He pinched his nose. “I’m getting a migraine.”

Marinette went to stand up. “I’ll get you some--”

He waved his hand at her dismissively, and she dropped back into her seat. “Don’t bother. I’ll get it myself. Have you seen Adrien? He seems to have disappeared.”

At the mention of his name, Adrien squeaked from under the desk, and Marinette’s eyes widened. Gabriel’s, however, narrowed, and he took a step backward.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know the  _ nature _ of your relationship with my son, and frankly, I don’t want to know. But I expect that, while you are working for me, you will remain  _ professional _ and not let yourself get… distracted from your work. Am I clear?”

“N-no!” Marinette protested. “I mean, yes, but no! Adrien and-- I’m not-- We’re--” Her shoulders slumped. “I understand, sir.”

“Good.” He nodded firmly and spun on his heel. “I’ll be in my office.”

As soon as his footsteps faded, Adrien burst from his hiding place, crawling out and gasping as though he’d been hiding underwater. “Do you think he knew I was here?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that,” Marinette replied bitterly.

“Oh, god. What did he think, we were...” He laughed nervously. “What? No. No, no. Right? No.”

Marinette buried her head in her hands. “Oh my god. My boss thinks I’m secretly dating his son.”

“Hi? Son, right here,” Adrien reminded her. “Oh, shit. Now he probably thinks--” He pressed his lips together.

“Thinks what?” Marinette asked. 

Adrien sat back on his knees and said in a small voice, “That I only got you this job so we could bang.”

Marinette waved her hands, like she was batting away all the other thoughts in her head. “Hang on, you  _ got _ me this job? I  _ applied _ for it. You didn’t…” She groaned. “God, so I’m only here as a favor?”

“What? No, of course not!” Adrien leaned forward, still on his knees. He shuffled closer and put a reassuring hand on her knee. “Marinette, you  _ definitely _ deserve this job.”

“I mean, thanks, Adrien, but that’s not the biggest issue right now.” Marinette groaned again. “God, what do we--Do we say something to him? I don’t want to bring this up again. What if we just… don’t do anything out of the ordinary. Act professionally around him. And then he’ll realize he was wrong. Easy!”

Adrien frowned. “Yeah, that’s cool and all, except my dad isn’t going to pay enough attention to  _ ever _ pick up on that. And then, two years from now, he’ll probably  _ still _ think we’re dating. And then he’ll be mad that I didn’t say something sooner.”

Marinette spread her hands at him, clearly exasperated.

“I don’t want to talk to him about this either!” he yelped. “So…”

“So,” she responded. “Do we-- I mean, we should, um. Your dad already thinks we’re dating… Do you want to get coffee, sometime?”

Adrien blinked. “Wha-? I mean, yeah, definitely! Uh, hang on, let me just, like, run upstairs and change, and--”

Marinette giggled. “Not right now. I’m working, and you--oh, shit. Your dad’s still looking for you. You should go.”

“Oh. Right, right, yeah.” He scrambled to his feet. “I’ll… text you?”

She beamed. “Sounds good.”

When his footsteps faded, Marinette turned and wrenched open one of her desk drawers. “Hey, Tikki?”

“Yeah?” The kwami blinked up at her; she was swaddled in a handkerchief, and had clearly been napping when all the ruckus started, and she yawned as Marinette tried to form a question.

Marinette pointed towards the door that Adrien had just disappeared through. “That… just happened, right? Like, you heard that, and it was real?”

Tikki smiled. “Yes, Marinette.”

Marinette leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I think this is the best day of my life.”

* * *

Adrien messaged her two hours and seventeen minutes later. Not that either of them were keeping track.

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like i haven't written any side of the love square in......... a year, probably? (I might be exaggerating but...... it's been a while lmao.)
> 
> as usual, [I'm on tumblr!](http://chatchevalier.tumblr.com)


End file.
